


John Silver's Birthday

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Birthdays, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mild Groping, Polyamory, Post-Series fic, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Sentimental, it's Silver's birthday come on, polyshipping prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 12:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: For the polyshipping prompt: 'You forgot my birthday'





	John Silver's Birthday

 

It’s not an important thing.

(It is.)

It doesn’t really matter, it  _can’t_  really matter because if it matters then…well, it’s silly to care about something as ridiculous as this. Except, you only get one birthday, and this one is John Silver’s.

It’s one of the few things he’s always known. He’s known his father left his mother before his eyes ever saw the sky. He’s known how it feels to steal a purse and run fast before they can catch you, and escape through a narrow corridor, down a dirty alley, or over a back garden fence before they ever do. He’s known what it is to go to bed hungry and wake up with the same feeling in his gullet. He’s known what it is to want more.

And he knows his birthday is the 13th of June, because his mother used to cradle him in her arms and say he was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen in the early summer time, under a lucky moon.

He’d only mentioned it once in Flint’s hearing, that he knows of. Back when Muldoon was teasing him about some such bit of nonsense, saying he wasn’t old enough to grow a full beard yet. Flint probably wasn’t even listening. There’s no reason for him to remember a piece of information that is of no use to him.

Which is why Silver hasn’t mentioned it during their time together. Even to Thomas, who is definitely the sort of person who likes to celebrate things. As judged by the fact that he brings Flint some small token on the first of each month. Silver’s observed this carefully, but silently, and once Thomas turned and saw him as he left the small shell on Flint’s desk.

“It was a ritual of some sort,” Thomas explained. “When he  left for a voyage, I’d give him something to take with him, and when he came back, he’d bring me a token in return.”

He sees the words in Silver’s eye, even if Silver doesn’t voice it.

“I know we’re together now.” Thomas says quietly. “That’s why. It’s a token to remind him that I’m here.”

Silver can understand that.

It’s enough that  _he_  remembers his birthday. Usually he takes some time for himself, goes for a walk, has a good meal, a good bottle of wine, for what he can pay. He raises a drink to the stars and to the sea and the wind, and good fortune, and luck. That’s enough.

Usually.

This year, for some reason Silver finds himself wishing for something more. Even if he doesn’t have a firm idea of what that more would actually entail. He just knows he wants something.

On the morning of the thirteenth, Silver wakes early. He leaves the sleeping mass under the sheets that is Thomas and Flint lying together, and gets dressed. He packs a loose bundle in a kerchief of plums and bread and goes out along the beach. He leaves a note on the wooden table. Flint will spot it when he wakes. It merely says not to worry and he’ll be back before nightfall.

Silver’s gone on walks like this before, since he joined them here. It won’t cause any worry now, not like it did the first time. He still savors the memory of that first time he came back after spending a day on the hills with the wind in his hair and nothing but the sound of gulls overheads.

Flint had met him halfway up the sandy path to the cottage, seizing Silver by the shirt. “Where the fuck did you go?”

Silver had blinked up at him in surprise. “For a walk?”

“All fucking day?” Flint snarled, his fingers gripping the shirt so hard Silver thought it would tear from his body. “Just like that?”

“I needed some air.” Silver muttered. “I…” he paused and then looked at Flint carefully, as though he might have gotten this wrong and is still feeling his way around it. “I was coming back.”

Impossibly Flint’s grip tightened even further on his shirt, and then abruptly Flint let go and turned away. The mumbled ‘See that you do’ tossed over his shoulder at Silver was barely audible.

Later Flint had taken the shirt more carefully from his shoulders and pressed his mouth to the marks he imagined had been left on Silver’s chest. It did little good for Silver to declare he was fine; Flint saw what he chose to see as always. And his mouth belonged on Silver’s skin regardless.

Since that day Silver had taken care to leave a note as to his whereabouts whenever he needed to go out. Flint never again accosted him like that first evening but he was always there waiting for Silver whenever he returned.

 

   *   *   *

 

 _He could have told them_ , Silver told himself. He could have said something as simple as ‘you forgot my birthday’ to which Flint would have said, ‘What of it?’ and Thomas could easily have said, ‘you can’t forget something you’ve never known,’ which is a fair point.

He sits on a broad smooth curved rock that overlooks the little inlet on this side of the island where they’ve made a home for themselves. He found it during the second week. It’s a good vantage point of both the sea and one section of the island to the west. It’s one of Silver’s favorite spots here. He often goes here to watch the sun rise, to read for a bit, to be alone.

Today he simply wants to sit. He stretches out his leg and his stump, setting his crutch aside. The sunlight is pale so far, but as it rises slowly over the water, it turns the sea to pure gold. A treasure that Silver can never capture nor hold, except in moments in like this. 

He draws his strong knee up, clasping his hands around it as he gazes out over the golden-dappled depths.

Silver breathes a slow sigh of pleasure at the sight of it.

“This is why you come out here?”

He jumps, half reaching for the knife he still carries in his belt, even as he registers the voice behind him as Flint’s.

“Yes.” He turns to Flint as Flint settles on the rock beside him.

Flint nods in understanding, his eyes on the water. “I can see why.”

Silver looks at him but Flint remains silent, watching the waves. Slowly his hand lifts to rest on the back of Silver’s neck, stroking gently. Silver leans into it, letting the touch soothe him.

“I’ll leave you in peace if you want, but you’re not to sit here all day, or at least come back before midnight.”

“Why?” Silver asks absently. All his attention is on Flint’s fingers, the tenderness in them as they touch him, and yet, still gently, almost delicately arousing. It would be embarrassing that such a simple touch of Flint’s could do this to him, but somehow he’s grown past caring about such things.

“Why?” Flint chuckles. “You must know Thomas has a surprise waiting. He’s been planning it for weeks.”

Silver’s heart skips a little, just a silly, startled jump in his chest. He turns his head and looks at Flint wordlessly.

Flint’s hand moves to cup his cheek. “You idiot. Did you really think I’d forgotten your birthday?”

Heat rises in Silver’s cheeks, but it’s only pleasure, unabashed pleasure that Flint remembered. Not only had he remembered, but he had told Thomas and Thomas wanted to celebrate and plan something for him. What a strange thing was it was to know someone thought of you and held that knowledge dear.

Flint leans in to kiss him, and Silver rises to slide across his lap. Flint’s hands slide down to clasp him firmly and Silver rests more fully against Flint’s groin. He’s not the only one aroused by Flint touching him.

Flint shudders softly as Silver grinds slowly against him. “Here?” They’re in plain sight, technically.

“Here.” Silver says. “It’s my birthday after all.”

Flint laughs, his hands pulling Silver closer. “Happy Birthday, then.”

 

*   *   *

 

It’s mid-morning by the time they return to the cottage, lazy and smelling of salt and sun and each other.

Flint draws Silver up before they reach the porch. “Remember, not a word. You’re meant to be surprised.”

“I’ll do my best.” Silver promises.

Flint nods, giving him a quick kiss before he turns toward the porch again. Silver follows a step behind, his heart lighter than it had been this morning, buoyed by sweet delight. He pauses a moment on the porch, listening to Flint whistle blithely as he steps inside, hears Thomas’s answering murmur, and he tries to look as though it were just another day, but he can’t quite hide the smile upon his lips as he enters their home.


End file.
